That morning, Blair walked out of her faculty building at an unhurried pace.
Class had just ended, and the Amsterdam air was still cold but clean, like a blank page that hadn’t been written on yet.
She adjusted her scarf, then stopped in the open area near the small campus park, where students usually waited for friends or simply sat without a clear purpose.
She was waiting for Kattie.
While standing there, Blair took out her phone, a reflex she didn’t even register.
There were no new messages.
She slipped the phone back into her bag, slightly annoyed with herself for knowing exactly whose message she had just hoped for.
Footsteps echoed from the opposite building.
Blair glanced over without really intending to, and that was when she saw Pablo.
He was walking out of a different faculty building, a backpack slung over one shoulder, his face looking more tired than usual.
They weren’t walking together, nor moving toward each other, just existing on paths that happened to cross.
Their eyes met.
Not for long.
Not dramatically.
But long enough for Blair to realize that something had shifted since yesterday.
Pablo gave a small nod, polite, like someone careful not to cross a boundary.
Blair returned it with a faint smile.
No greeting.
No reason to stop.
Still, Pablo slowed down, as if his mind hadn’t fully agreed with his body yet.
A few seconds later, he stepped closer.
“You’re waiting for Kattie?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Blair replied.
“Her class doesn’t end for another hour.”
Pablo nodded.
“Then… want to go to the cafeteria first?”
Blair hesitated for a moment.
A quick hesitation, almost invisible.
“Sure.”
They walked side by side, the distance between them neither too close nor too far.
The conversation flowed lightly—about their classes, about overly serious lecturers, about how the campus coffee tasted more bland by the day.
At the cafeteria, they sat at a table near the window.
Pablo opened his laptop for a moment, then closed it again, as if realizing he hadn’t really intended to work.
“Tired?” Blair asked.
Pablo gave a small smile.
As usual.”
Blair nodded.
She wanted to ask more, but chose not to.
There was a subtle distance between them today.
Not cold.
Not warm.
Neutral—but noticeable.
Blair’s phone vibrated inside her bag.
She didn’t check it.
But Pablo noticed the small movement.
His eyes dropped briefly, then returned to Blair’s face.
He didn’t ask.
Didn’t show anything.
But inside him, something began to change shape.
This was no longer just curiosity.
Not long after, Kattie arrived with quick steps and a wide smile.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said.
“My lecturer loves adding extra stories.”
“We just sat down,” Blair replied.
Kattie glanced at the two of them, then smiled, as if catching something unspoken.
The three of them ate together.
Kattie dominated the conversation with small stories that kept the atmosphere lively.
Pablo laughed along, Blair chimed in now and then.
From the outside, they looked normal—three students who happened to be close.
But there was an empty space that remained untouched.
After eating, Kattie excused herself first because of an extra class.
“Don’t overthink things,” she said to Blair, winking.
Then to Pablo, “Take care of her, okay?”
Pablo smiled.
“Of course.”
Kattie left, leaving the two of them in a silence that wasn’t awkward—but wasn’t comfortable either.
“I might be busy for the next few days,” Pablo said at last.
“So if I don’t show up much, it’s nothing personal.”
“Okay.”
A safe answer.
Too safe.
“I’ll head out,” Pablo added.
“Take care,” Blair replied.
Pablo walked away, this time without looking back.
Blair watched his back until it disappeared into the crowd of students.
***
That afternoon, Blair stopped by Brunne’s bookstore to pick up a book she had ordered.
Brunne was sitting behind the counter, reading, as usual.
“You look restless,” Brunne said without looking up.
“That obvious?” Blair gave a small smile.
“People with crowded minds tend to linger longer at the door,” Brunne replied.
Blair let out a quiet laugh and sat down for a moment.
“If someone from your past shows up again, what does that mean?”
Brunne closed his book.
“It means there’s still a part of you that hasn’t finished speaking.”
“And if I don’t want to listen?”
“That part will still find a way.”
Outside the shop, Blair stood there for a long moment before finally heading home.
Her phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
I’m not forcing anything.
But if you ever want to talk, I’m here.
Blair stared at the screen.
There was no threat.
No pressure.
And that was exactly what made it dangerous.
She didn’t reply.
That night, in her apartment, Blair sat on the edge of her bed, staring out the window.
Somewhere else, Pablo sat on the floor of his apartment, his back against the sofa, phone in hand.
Both of them chose silence.
Not because they didn’t care.
But because they were starting to realize that feelings that grow quietly are the hardest to protect.
And that distance, the one that was never announced, remained there.
Not large.
Not clearly defined.
But real enough to change the direction of their steps moving forward.